Far From Life (Peter Parker Whump)

Sick Day pt 1

Read my garbage.

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

Peter's P.O.V.

"Peter! Wake up, it's time for school!" Aunt May called. I groaned, pulling the covers up higher. I shivered from the freezing temperatures of the room. Odd. It's not usually this cold. "Peter!"

"Coming, May." My voice sounded like rocks, a rough sound that strayed far from my usual pitch. Huh. Maybe I finally hit puberty. I carefully shoved the blankets off me, once again shivering from the cold. I stood up, immediately sitting back down with my hand held up to my forehead.

"Pete- are you ok?" Aunt May walked in, concern written across her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little dizzy," I tried to reassure her. She looked skeptical.

"You look kinda flushed." She held a hand up to my forehead, checking my temperature. I leaned into her cool touch, but it didn't last long. She jerked her hand away, gasping. "You're burning up!" She ran out of the room, headed toward the bathroom

"May, I'm fine, really- mmffh!" I was interrupted by a thermometer being shoved into my mouth.

"Keep it under your tongue. I'm going to call the school, let them know you won't be there today." I let out a weak noise of protest. I hated missing school. All the makeup work just wasn't worth the day off. She was back quickly, just in time for the thermometer to beep. She grabbed it, frowning at the little digital numbers.

"This can't be right. Hold on, I'll try to find another one." Strange. I wonder what exactly it said to cause May to think it was broken. I stood up to follow her, but was immediately hit by another wave of lightheadedness. I closed my eyes, placing my hand back over my forehead. I carefully laid back down, covering myself with the blankets. It was all too cold. I felt nauseous, my stomach was uneasy.

"I found another thermometer! Here, hold it under your tongue." May looked at me, concern clear in her features. It beeped, and I let her take it. She frowned again, looking back and forth between me and the thermometer. "Peter," she said carefully, "what symptoms do you have?" I listed them off for her. She listened, calculating in her head what was wrong with me.

"Alright. I think you have the flu. I'll stay home with you today, to keep an eye on that temperature."

"May, no, you don't have to babysit me. Go to work, I'll be fine," I smiled weakly. She didn't look convinced. "If something happens, I'll call you. Promise."

"Fine. You better call me if you feel any worse, ok?" I nod. "Alright..." She looked uneasy. "Try and get some sleep, honey. I'll try to get home early." She left the apartment, and I turned over onto my side, shivering violently. I coughed once, which turned into a coughing fit. On the last cough, I threw up all over my bed. Great. I felt too weak to get up and clean myself off, so I lay there, hurting all over.

"Peter! Let me in!" I heard a voice at the door. I didn't have the strength to get up. Suddenly, I heard the sound of the door opening, which caused me alarm. I was powerless to stop whoever just broke into my apartment from stealing, or even murdering me. I cried quietly in my vomit-covered bed, wondering why my last moments had to be so undignified.

"Kid? Are you ok?" The intruder asked.

"M-Mister Stark?" I blinked, wiping my tears off my cheeks.

"Yeah, kiddo, it's me. I got a signal that you were in distress, so I came right away," he explained. "Uh, sorry about breaking in, by the way. Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's ok." I smile, but it turns into a grimace.

"Right. So, tell me, why did I get a distress signal from you?" He took another look at me, finally taking in the vomit on the bed. "Oh, Pete, why didn't you call me? Nevermind, let's get you cleaned up first." He collected the dirty blankets and brought them to the small washer dryer. I say up, slower this time, and shaking stood up.

"Woah, hold on there, kiddo." Mister Stark helped me stagger over to the shower, and set me down on the floor." Get yourself cleaned up. I won't watch. But, just don't stand up. I don't want you dying in the shower," he smirked lovingly. I rolled my eyes, grinning. I closed the shower curtain, throwing my clothes over the top so I could shower. I stretched as far as I could to reach the knob to turn on the water, barely touching it. I switched on the water, letting the warmth flow over my freezing skin. I cleaned off the old puke, and sat under the hot water in silence for a little while to warm up.

"Pete? You ok in there?" Mister Stark poked around the corner.

"I'm ok! I'll be right out." I switched off the water, immediately being enveloped in the icy cold. I shivered, realizing I didn't have a towel. "Mister Stark?" I called.

"Yeah?"

"I uh, don't have a towel," I admitted.

"I can get you one. Where do you keep them?" I explained to him where the towels were, and soon one was tossed over the shower door. I wrapped the rough material around my shivering body. I wanted nothing more than to get back in my bed. I grabbed the handle, pulling myself up to stand. I opened the shower door, carefully stepping down to the floor. My legs shook with uncertainty of the weight they were supporting.

"Mister Stark?" He walked into the bathroom at the sound of my voice.

"Kid, I thought I told you to stay on the ground." He gave me a stern look, before taking pity on me. "Alright, get that towel wrapped around your waist. I got you, just lean on me." His arm snaked around my back, supporting my shaky steps. He practically dragged me into my bed, which had my blankets back on it, still warm from the dryer.

"You didn't have to."

"Kiddo, I was the one who decided to come here in the first place," he insisted. "If I get a distress signal from you, I'll go because I want to."

"How did you even know I was sick? I wasn't wearing my suit." He let out a small chuckle.

"Kid, I have ways of knowing things. I always have an eye on you."

"That's... kinda creepy, actually," I giggled. "But seriously, thanks for helping me out."

"Don't mention it. Hey, speaking of, I'm gonna go find the thermometer. You look really sick," he observed. "Did your Aunt take your temperature this morning?"

"Yeah. She didn't tell me what it was, though. I don't think the thermometer she found was accurate," I explained. A hot flash struck my body, and the warm blankets were suddenly too much. I sat up and pushed them away, sweat beading under my shirt. The dizziness returned quickly, and I held my hand up to my pulsing head.

"Woah, Pete, hold on there. You look like you're about to pass out." I felt like I was going to pass out. "I'll be right back, don't you move." The billionaire ran out to fetch the thermometer, grabbing an ice pack out of the freezer on the way. "Here. Put this on your forehead." It was wrapped in a washcloth, and I will admit that the coldness of the pack really was helping. The thermometer was shoved into my mouth, with an instruction to keep it under my tongue. It beeped, and he took it.

"What does it say?" I asked hazily. I was starting to unfocus, my eyes became droopy.

"103.2. That's really high, Pete," he stated, voice laced with concern.

"Yayyyy, high score," I said unenthusiastically. I got a shocked look directed toward me. "Hey, whatcha lookin' at?"

"How are you even this sick? You were almost fine 10 minutes ago," he panicked slightly. "What do I even do with a sick spider-kid?"

"I would ask Fluffy." Mister Stark turned to look me in the eye.

"Who?"

"Fluffy," I answer, pointing a shaky hand behind my mentor's back. "He knows."

"He knows what? Kid, who is Fluffy? What does he know?!" He was growing hysterical, worried for my safety.

"He knows," I repeat, losing consciousness.

Yeah, I know it's kinda unrealistic but I mean it's also a teen with spider powers so maybe that's normal for him, idk